The man before him had a buzz cut and a square face. He had a cold expression on his face and there seemed to be a cold glint in his eyes. It made one’s heart tighten.
Everything was exactly as Ray remembered.
He let out a breath. “Have you been well for the past two years?”
Frank walked slowly into the living room. “Not so good.”
Ray seemed surprised. “Why’s that?”
Frank: “Maria is dead. Lisa and Frank Jr died too. Right in front of me.”
“What happened? Come, sit down and talk.”
Frank: “No need. I just wanted to ask you a question. Do you know Blacksmith?”
Ray frowned and pondered for a moment, then shook his head. “I’ve never heard of him. What does he do? Where is he active? I need to know this, so that I can check.”
Frank fell silent.
Ray looked at him, the gun behind his back moving slowly. “What’s the problem, Frank? Tell me. I’ll do what I can to help you. Since we’re old comrades… ugh?”
Chi! There was a low hissing sound.
Ray raised his left hand and covered his neck in shock as he turned around.
Halfway through his action, his eyes rolled back and he collapsed onto the couch.
Luke, who was still dressed in his gray hoodie, appeared behind him and unhurriedly put away the syringe. “Let’s not waste time. He was holding a gun behind his back. It didn’t look like he was meeting an old comrade.”
Frank: “…When you first appeared, I also shot at you. People like us don’t trust anyone. Holding a gun doesn’t mean anything.”
Luke smiled behind his mask. If you didn’t trust me, would you have come with me? If you trusted him, then why did you agree to my proposal?
It seemed that this type of tsundere wasn’t unique to a certain tycoon. It was just that the way this “Punisher uncle” behaved was slightly different from that “young master.”
Roasting Frank inwardly, Luke said, “His wife and kid are asleep. Let’s start.”
As he spoke, he took out two more syringes and injected them into Ray’s neck, one on each side. “He’ll wake up in no more than three minutes. You can ask him anything you want. Also, if he’s Blacksmith, remember to ask him where the goods are hidden.” With that, he left.
As if he hadn’t heard him, Frank walked over to Ray and searched him. He uncocked the pistol and tossed it aside.
Then, he sat down next to Ray and waited quietly.
There was a dead silence in the house. Two minutes later, Ray’s eyelids fluttered and he slowly opened his eyes. His gaze was blank and unfocused.
Frank’s breathing grew heavy and quick. A hundred thoughts raced through his mind before he finally asked the question that had been bothering him: “Did you kill Maria and the others?”
…
Luke walked out of the house and headed for a small wooden shed ten meters away.
After putting Ray’s wife and son into a deep sleep, Luke had already done a rough check of the inside of the house. There were no obvious abnormalities, but there was the smell of gun oil and other things from the storage shed about ten meters away from the main house.
Opening the door, he ignored the various tools inside and walked straight to a wall. He reached behind a heavy industrial cutter and felt around for a moment before he pressed a hidden button.
With a slight noise, a metal staircase slowly opened up in the ground. It was a basement.
As he walked down, the lights came on automatically. He looked around, and entered a sea of weapons.
There were no fewer than fifty handguns, rifles, and shotguns. There were also several types of machine guns, ranging from the lightweight M249 to the heavy six-barreled M134. Then there were grenade launchers, RPGs, MK2 grenades, smoke grenades, stun grenades, and other individual battlefield combat equipment. There was enough equipment here for two standard infantry units.
Luke only glanced at them briefly before his gaze fell on a laptop.
After inserting a decryption USB into it and starting it up, he took out his fake phone and got to work.
A few minutes later, his eyes lit up. He looked at the files on the fake phone and smiled. “Found it.”
He turned off the laptop and put it away in his inventory. Then, he looked around.
With a thought, the grenade launchers, RPGs, MK2s, smoke grenades, and stun grenades were placed in his inventory.
He didn’t touch the other guns and bullets. He had a lot in stock, and it wasn’t difficult to get them. There was no need to take them away.
When he was done, he walked out and closed up the basement again.
When he returned to the living room, he saw Frank standing silently in front of the couch.
Ray was lying on the couch with a hole in his forehead.
Luke slapped his own forehead. You’re really quick to kill them! Thank goodness I found the files, or I wouldn’t have been able to find Blacksmith’s goods.
He didn’t disturb Frank. He had to give him time to calm down after getting his revenge.
He leaned against the table and took out his fake phone to check a recording of the earlier interrogation.
It was a good thing that he always had a backup plan to retain as much information as possible.
Ray’s full name was Ray Schoonover.
He was a Marine Corps colonel, and Frank and Robert’s former boss.
At the same time, Ray had another identity — he was an expert at doing the dirty work and carrying out secret missions worldwide for several organizations.
Once a team member died on a secret assignment, they became mercenaries who had nothing to do with the US military.
As a result, Ray had a number of privileges in the US army. For example, only a few people had records of his and his team’s movements.
Many of the things they moved in and out of the United States were very sensitive and wouldn’t be noted down by the military.
With the existence of such a convenient means of transport and long exposure to dirty work, Ray’s bottom line quickly disappeared.
Looking at how the people above him made a fortune from the massacres he carried out, Ray started a new business — smuggling and selling drugs. He had many nicknames, “Blacksmith” being one of them.
Even if they didn’t have the details, the big shots who commanded him had a rough idea of this business of his.
However, no one said anything.
A black-hearted subordinate who liked to make money was more useful than a loyal and patriotic fighter.
If Ray became a problem, they could just dispose of him and take his money.
However, Ray’s skills weren’t bad. After more than ten years, not only wasn’t he dead, he even climbed from a major to a colonel, and his business also got even bigger.
After roping in a few big shots as a safety net, the possibility of him being silenced was very low, and he led an increasingly comfortable life.
It wasn’t until Frank had been ready to retire two years ago that Ray sensed trouble.
Frank was fiercely adverse to drug trafficking, and never held back when killing traffickers.
Ray had never let Frank in on his side business.
However, after Frank retired, Ray could no longer control his communication with the outside world. It was possible that someone would try to get information from Frank to knock him down.
Frank, who didn’t know about this “side business,” might inadvertently let sensitive information slip.
How could someone as dirty as Ray dare let himself be investigated?
When the time came, the radish would be pulled out of the mud.
It was very likely that the higher-ups would take him down for the crime of drug smuggling.
If that happened, many people would only raise their glasses to celebrate one less person who knew about their dirty business.